“I must tell you…” Jillian heard her strident voice saying, and then the words faded and she didn’t catch the rest of the Mistress’s instructions.
Jillian felt a knot of uncertainty in her stomach. She looked at the wooden changing booth and then at Kalis uncertainly.
“Is this…” She cleared her throat. “Is this a regular thing? I mean, should…am I really supposed to take off all my clothes? I mean, usually when I get a massage I at least leave my underwear on.”
“To be completely nude is the usual way for massages here at the Yonnite spa,” he rumbled, nodding. “Though if you are shy about showing your lovely body, little Mistress, I can use the blindfold protocol.”
“The, uh, blindfold protocol? What’s that?” Jillian demanded.
“Why, I’ll wear a blindfold while I massage you, of course.” Kalis shrugged, his muscular shoulders rolling, as though it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s quite usual for shy Mistresses, who don’t wish to be looked at while they’re being massaged. Either that, or I can massage you completely in the dark,” he added. “But that would involve going into another room alone—just the two of us, little Mistress.”
That sounded dangerous to Jillian. She didn’t feel comfortable being alone in a pitch-black room with a man she didn’t know. Though she was beginning to get a sense of Kalis and he seemed like a decent guy, she didn’t like the idea of going into a dark room alone with him and letting him rub her all over.
In fact, why was she considering this at all, she asked herself? She most definitely hadn’t agreed to it. All she’d said was that she would drink a cup of tea with Mistress Douchenbag and now look—she was about to get naked and let the huge Kindred rub her body. This was ridiculous!
“Look,” she said to Kalis. “I really don’t know how I got roped into this, but I need to be getting home.”
“I understand.” He nodded. “You feel nervous to have my hands on your body.”
“What? No!” Jillian denied quickly. “Or, I mean, maybe,” she added. “I mean, I’ve had massages before, but I usually have a female massage therapist,” she added weakly. “It’s not that I don’t like you—”
“You just don’t trust me,” he finished for her. There was no bitterness in his voice—he was simply stating a fact. “I don’t blame you, little Mistress. As I said, I have yet to prove myself to you.”
“You don’t have to—” Jillian began.
“I must go and cleanse my hands so that I am fit to serve you, little Mistress. I will await you in the rose-gold room,” Kalis rumbled.
He nodded respectfully at her and then went through the door at the far end of the changing room, presumably into the “pleasure grotto” as the bald bodyslave had called it.
At almost the same moment, the outside door opened as well.
“All right, here’s the tea!”
Mistress Douchenbag bustled back into the room, followed by a bodyslave holding a silver tray with two tiny golden cups on it. Delicate wisps of steam were rising from both cups—which were filled with clear, aquamarine liquid.
“What? You’re not ready yet?” she exclaimed, frowning at Jillian. “Hurry up and get undressed! We must sip this tea before it goes cold. Hurry, now!” she added, going into one of the dressing rooms herself.
“Look, I didn’t agree to this,” Jillian said to her, speaking through the linen privacy curtain.
“Yes, you did! You agreed to have tea with me and try out Kalis’s services before you made a decision,” Mistress Douchenbag shot back. “Part of his training is knowing how to give his Mistress an excellent massage. You’ll want to keep him for that skill alone.”
“I’m not going to keep him!” Jillian protested in a low voice. She was glad the big Kindred had gone into the next room so he couldn’t hear them arguing about him as though he was an object neither of them wanted.
Mistress Douchenbag stuck her head out from behind the curtain.
“How can you know that you don’t want to keep him if you don’t at least try his services—which you promised to do?” she snapped, frowning at Jillian. “Now hurry up! The tea will get cold!”
Then she pulled her head back behind the curtain and continued undressing.
Jillian frowned at the place the other woman’s face had been. Mistress Douchenbag seemed really freaking focused on that tea.
The bodyslave who had brought the tea had set the silver platter down on the wooden bench and departed the room. Seeing that she had a moment where no one was watching her, Jillian pulled her poison checker out of her jeans pocket and ran it hastily over the two cups of steaming, aquamarine tea.
Somewhat to her surprise, the light at the end of the checker lit up bright green. She’d half expected the Yonnie Mistress to try and drug her—maybe to make her more susceptible to the idea of taking the big Kindred bodyslave home with her to the Mother Ship.